after phase of the terrible conflict passed before him. He could
see the white wall of the Dunkard church, the Bloody Lane, and most
ghastly of all, those dead men in rows lying on their arms, like
regiments asleep, but his nerves grew quiet at last, and after midnight
he slept.

Dawn came and found the two armies ready. Dick and the sad remnant
of the Winchester regiment rose to their feet. Although food had been
prepared for them very few in all these brigades had touched a bite the
night before, sinking into sleep or stupor before it could be brought to
them. But now they ate hungrily while they watched for their foes, the
skirmishers of either army already being massed in front to be ready for
any movement by the other.

As on the morning before, a mist arose from the Potomac and the
Antietam. The sun, bright and hot, soon dispersed it. But there was no
movement by either army. Dick did not hear the sound of a single shot.
Warner and Pennington, recovered from their stupor, stood beside him
gazing southward toward the rocks and ridges, where the Confederate army
lay.

"I'm thinking," said Warner, "that they're just as much exhausted as we
are. We're waiting for an attack, and they're waiting for the same. The
odds are at least ninety per cent in favor of my theory. Their losses
are something awful, and I don't think they can do anything against us.
Look how our batteries are massed for them."

Dick was watching through his glasses, and even with their aid he
could see no movement within the Southern lines. Hours passed and still
neither army stirred. McClellan counted his tremendous losses, and he,
too, preferred to await attack rather than offer it. His old obsession
that his enemy was double his real strength seized him, and he was not
willing to risk his army in a second rush upon Lee.

While Dick and his comrades were waiting through the long morning hours,
Lee and Jackson and his other lieutenants were deciding whether or not
they should make an attack of their own. But when they studied with
their glasses the Northern lines and the great batteries, they decided
that it would be better not to try it.

When noon came and still no shot had been fired, Colonel Winchester
shook his head.

"We might yet destroy the Southern army," he said to Dick, "but I'm
convinced that General McClellan will not move it."

The hot afternoon passed, and then the night came with the sound of
rumbling wheels and marching m